The Fire Keeps Burning
by ExplodingAaron
Summary: The rebellion failed; planned by Snow and Coin. It's been 20 years since Katniss and Peeta have been in the arena, and the games are still haunting them. Panem has expanded, and the Games are ten times worse. When Katniss and Peeta's daughter is sent into the arena, how will Katniss react? Will she break down, or carry on?... Rated T because it's Hunger Games. Post-Mockingjay.
1. Prologue

**_Hi guys!_**

**_This is my first fanfic! I'm really excited about it! Please let me know what you think of it! Reviews appreciated!_**

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_Prologue_

After the failed _Mockingjay Rebellion,_ as it became known as, Panem started expanding its territory. Snow, it turns out, was secretly married to Coin, and the rebellion was a set-up. So, when Katniss, Gale and Peeta got to the Capitol, they were captured and Tortured. Gale was tortured to death. Haymitch Abernathy, Mrs. Everdeen, Mr. & Mrs. Mellark, the Hawthorne family, Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Johanna Mason, Enobaria, Cashmere and Gloss, Effie Trinket, Plutarch Heavensbee, Fulvia, Venius, Octavia, Flavius, Portia, Peeta's prep team and many other innocent civilians were also killed.

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Peeta and Katniss, were freed eventually, free to live, although they felt as if they were still being tortured. Prim was killed by a bomb, and both of their families were killed by Peacekeepers. All they had was each other. They got married, in the re-built District 12. District 13 was also re-built. Peeta eventually lost all traces of tracker-jacker venom. Peeta and Katniss Everdeen Mellark had two children. The oldest, their daughter, Primrose Rue Mellark, and their younger child, a boy, Finnick Gale Mellark.

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As a result of Panem's expanding, what was known as _The United Kingdom_, or _Great Britain_, became a part of Panem. In fact, a whole continent, formerly known as _Europe_ became a part of Panem. Massive "bridges" were built to get to these places. _Europe_ became districts 14-26, each with their own exports. For instance, District 17, a place used to be called _France_, was in charge of wine and alcohol. _Germany_ became District 18. And District 19, formerly _Italy_, exported clothing.

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Life conditions slightly improved in District 12. No-one was dying of starvation, so that showed a huge improvement at least. _Quarter Quells_ were abolished, according to the Capitol, but they were actually re-made, only this time they occur every 5 years, and are called _Quinquennium Suppliciums_, which is Latin for "punishment of 5 years". The Capitol have created many, many _mutts _for them. The games now accept a tribute from the ages of 10-21, for "entertainment". Even District 2 has come to hate the Capitol. In fact, every single person that lives in District 1-26 hates them, and they know that _the Mockingjay_ is still alive, but Katniss is still to scared to rebel yet again, especially with her children to think of. But, if Katniss is alive, the fire keeps burning. If the fire keeps burning, there shall be hope.


	2. Katniss' worries

I wake up to a delicious breakfast-in-bed. Peeta is sitting on the bed beside me, smiling at me, holding our 7 year old son, Finnick. "Where's Prim?" I ask. "She took your old bow, the one your father gave you, out to the woods," Peeta answers. "What!?" I shout, "How could you let her? Its to dange-". "Katniss, listen to yourself," he interrupts, laughing, "You do realize that it used to be you hunting in the woods, right?". I know he clearly has a point, but it's a mother's instinct, I guess. "But times have changed! What if the fence is on and she touches it? Or what if she's caught by a Peacekeeper? Or what if its turned on while she tries to get back?" I say, worried. "Katniss, calm down. If you want to assure her safety, well then it's time to put on your hunting boots!" Peeta smirks sarcastically, thinking that I definitely won't do it.

But I do. I eat my delicious breakfast, get my sleek, black _Mockingjay_ bow, put on my hunting gear, boots, and my father's hunting jacket. "Bye darling. Bye Finnick, I'll be back soon!" I call as I leave the house. I have a feeling that Peeta is somewhat angry and amazed at that.

_'This year, Prim's name will be put in 3 times! At least she doesn't need to give extra for Tesserae. The people that she is named after were both called at the age of 12, and my sister only had her name in once! I hope Prim isn't called next week for the 95th annual Hunger Games, especially since it's a Quinquennium Supplicium, she'd have at least 51 others to fight against!'_ I ponder. '_No, surely all of that bad luck must all cancel each other out?'_

I start to run for the fence. I reach gap under the fence that was never filled in for some reason. I slide through and think, '_Where would Prim go?_' Then it hits me '_The lake_!' I head towards it, and find her in the old bunker that I have been in so many times before. 'Prim! How long have you been out here?' I ask. "Oh, not long, mother. Look at what I got!" She holds up three squirrels. "I shot each one in the eye!" she shouts in excitement. "Just like me," I say, grinning at her, "OK, let's go show daddy!" I say to her. "Mother, I'm 12, I'm not a baby" she frowns. "OK, honey. Let's go show your father." I tell her. _Three times _I think again. "That's better!" she smiles.

When we get home, Prim shows Peeta the squirrels, then we drop two of them off to Greasy Sae's, and give the other to Buttercup, who surprisingly survived through this, even though District 12 was burnt to a crisp. Buttercup has come to like me. I used to get the occasional purr, but ever since Prim died, he's come to rely on me. I'm glad that I didn't drown him all those years ago. He was there when I was returned here, by myself, because Peeta kept having his 'moments'. He kept me company. Plus, he reminds me of Prim. And if he's with me, a little part of Prim is with me.

I have to talk to someone about how I feel. So, I go to Peeta. "Peeta, can I talk to you, please?" I ask.

"Oh, of course." He says, sensing something is up. I tell him how I feel, but he replies with something unexpected.

"Well, she's been lucky enough not to be reaped already, I mean, children of victors are usually reaped, you know, to 'spice things up', and considering her parents were the leaders of a rebellion, she's bound to get reaped, sooner than later. Finnick may be reaped too. So, I think we should tell her, and try and help her, _train_ her" He tells me, sounding an awful lot like Haymitch.

"Like a Career" I reply. He knows that I absolutely _despise_ Careers.

"No Katniss! Well, lets put it this way; you wont be able to volunteer for _her_, now will you?"

"No..." I answer.

"So, let's teach her what we know, teach her survival skills; if not for us, if not for her, then for Primrose Everdeen, for Rue, for Finnick Odair, For Gale Hawthorne, for the rebels. Do it for them." He tells me.

"Well, she _is_ pretty good with a bow already, but as Gale told me, _you __**can't**__ rely on a bow. There's no certainty that there will be one in their._"

"Then we'll teach her to use a knife. Hunger, we won't need to worry about, she **hardly ever** eats, does she?" Peeta asks.

"No, and I suppose I could teach her to **make** a bow." I suggest

"And, we'll be her mentors." Of course. How could I forget? At that, my face drains of blood, yet I smile. Yet another one of the Capitols changes since the rebellion, two mentors for every district, and Peeta and I are the only two District 12 victors alive.

"Now to tell Prim" We say in unison.

"This won't be easy for her, you know that, right?" Peeta asks me.

"Yes,I do, but it would be harder for her if she's reaped, doesn't see it coming, and isn't prepared." I answer. _Now for the rough part,_ I think.


	3. The Discussion

_This wont be easy, but Prim will benefit from it, and it could even be the difference between life and death._ I think to myself._ I want her to be here, with Peeta, Finnick and I for her twenty-second birthday. I want her here when she is no longer eligible for the reaping. I just hope she accepts the truth, and doesn't ignore it. Peeta and I have two amazing children. They don't have that Seam look about them. Prim has long, blonde curly hair, and Peeta's eyes, and Finnick has short, fiery reddish hair, and seaweed green eyes. They both have very similar personalities. They inherited my mother and Prim's healing hands, which I must have had traces of deep down, the singing voices of my father and I ,Peeta's baking and kindness, my temper and hunting ability, my foolishness, and Peeta's non-foolishness, and both of our confidences. They are little rebels. They are my children. **My** children, who will be **forced** into the arena, forced to fight for survival. The worst thing is, Peeta and I are the only living tributes from District 12, so we'll be the ones in the hub, we will need to be watching her at all times, or we could be the cause of **our** child's death. There's also the other tribute(s) from 12 that we'll have to look out for, I mean, we can't just abandon him/them for our daughter, that would be an assassination. What I'm really nervous about, is the Quinquennium Suppliciums, they could include anything. Ever since Peeta and I pulled out the berries in the 74__th__, there has been a slight rule change, - every 7 years, both tributes from their district could win, if they were the last ones alive. If the Capitol do what they done in the second Quarter Quell, with this Quinnquennium Supplicium, they'll demand twice as many tributes, which means that if more than one tribute from their district are the only ones left, then all of them shall be crowned victors. It's Snow's way of covering up all remnants of the rebellion. I have a feeling that the rebels are still ready for action, and are waiting for __**me**__ to give the signal to fight. No! They wouldn't! Not after what just happened, anyway. Would they? I don't know. And what if Snow waits until Finnick is also eligible for reaping, and then puts both of them on the arena, together? No, he wouldn't do that. I mean, When you sent in Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, it started a rebellion. I can't imagine what could happen if you send in their, our offspring. All hell could break loose._ So much thoughts run through my head. So much thoughts, in so little time.

We go to Prim's room, to find her writing stories, as she usually does. She has such a creative mind. "Prim, Your father and I would like to talk to you for a minute, darling." I say, faking a smile.

"Yes?" She asks. _She's so beautiful, she looks so innocent._

"Now, honey, as you know, we both survived the Hunger Games, **twice**." Peeta begins.

"And we also started and led a rebellion" I say. I think she can sense my nervousness, as she puts a hand on my shoulder, reassuringly.

"Well, what the Capitol sometimes do, is mess with the reapings, and take advantage of them, so that a victor's child will get reaped for the games, to 'add tension'." Peeta tells her. She has never seen this herself.

"And, President Snow doesn't like your father and I, _at all_." I tell her.

"Because of the Nightlock scene." Prim adds in.

"Well, what your mother and I are trying to say is, we think that the Capitol will mess with the reaping one year to force you to the arena." Peeta sounds and is acting serious, yet comforting.

"So, we want to prepare you for it. Training starts in half an hour" I tell her, acting like the 'officer in command'.

"Like a Career?" She, like me, despises Careers.

"No! Of course not! You think I would let _my_ daughter turn into a Career? Hell no! Prim, this is just to ensure your safety. We don't want you to die in the arena, _especially_ considering that we are your mentors! We would only blame ourselves. We want you with us for your twenty-second birthday. Anyway, you'll get to learn to make a bow!" I explain to her.

"So, are you in?" Peeta and I ask her, simultaneously.

"I was in when you mentioned the bow! You should have mentioned it earlier." Prim smiles.

"Prim?" I call her.

"Yes?" she answers.

"Just, please don't tell Finnick, he still has two and a half years of free childhood left." I tell her, and walk away. _Boy, she handled that pretty well. Let's see how she does in training._


	4. Start the Preparations

Twenty-five minutes later, Prim is with Peeta and I, her eyes are red and blotchy, which indicates that she has cried, so Peeta and I hug her. "Don't worry, Prim, don't worry." I told her.

"Hey, Prim, if you're like this knowing that we're training for the Games, imagine if you weren't prepared for it?" Peeta tells her, which seems to stabilize her breathing.

"So, what do you what do you want to do first? There's Archery, camouflage, Weapons - knives, axes, swords, spears, and tridents. There are traps - nets and snares, Fire-starting, telling apart the edible and inedible plants or target practice. Make your choice!" I ask her.

"What about Finnick?" Prim asks. "He could just walk out here and see us!"

"Don't worry, sweetheart, he's at Kolton's house." Peeta tells her. At the word 'sweetheart', all of my memories of Haymitch, and of the games come flooding back. It makes me feel really seems to stick out is the part when I was almost dying of dehydration, thinking Haymitch wanted me to die. That feeling, I never want Prim to feel that. Prim decides to start with traps, as she is yet to learn to even master the simplest of snares. We start on a simple snare, called the spring snare. First, I give Prim an axe to chop down the branches that she needs. She's really good with an axe, even though she's never really used one. Then, I show her how to make the snare, and leave her to work. On her first try, she doesn't get it, and looks slightly disappointed. "Hey, why so upset? Nothing is done perfectly first time!" I encourage her to try again. Surely enough, second time around, she has a perfectly functional snare. "Well done, darling. It took me five tries before I got it perfect, and Peeta can't even make this type of snare!" I tell her, which cheers her up incredibly. The work on snares reminds me of Gale, and I try to hold the tears in, but one or two escape. No-one notices, though, so I wipe my cheeks and move on.

"So Prim, what do you want to do next?" Peeta queries.

"Hmm..." Prim murmurs, in deep thought. "Oh, I know! Let's do the camouflage!" At this, Peeta grins. "Camouflage specialist, at your service." Peeta says, as if it's his title, and an important one at that. This makes Prim and I giggle. Then, Peeta acts offended, and puts on a Capitol accent, saying "What on **Earth** are you two giggling about?" This puts Prim and I in stitches of laughter. By the time I recover myself, Prim is still in a fit of laughter, so I go along with Peeta's act.

"Goodness! Haven't you **ever** heard of manners, child?" I ask, in that silly accent. If President Snow was to walk by, We'd all be assassinated.

"It seems she hasn't! These District 12 people are a **disgrace** to the whole of Panem! Why, even the new Districts behave better than **this**!" Peeta declares, making Prim laugh so hard that she has to gasp for breath.

"Oh dear, it **seems** that she will die from loss of air!" I say flamboyantly.

"Thank goodness! One less of those **savages** to put up with" Peeta replies, as I go over to Prim and shout "Breathe, silly child!" In a Capitol accent. We eventually calm her down.

"Now, for the camouflage." Peeta says. Since this is Peeta's specialty, I get to sit back and watch. As I thought, Prim is almost as good as Peeta, but not quite. She is everything good about our families, and even has some of our flaws. So does Finnick. I just hope he isn't affected when Prim is sent off to the arena. _Oh. My. Mockingjay. _I realize. _What if Prim isn't reaped before Finnick is eligible? What if they are both reaped in the same year? There is no possible way for them both to come home, unless they wait until Prim is nineteen._ I quickly brush this away though._ No! They'll want them during a Quinquennium Supplicium. If they put them in together, well, look at what earlier Mellarks and Everdeens have done in the arena._ I realize that I have zoned out, so I look down to where Peeta and Prim were, but they aren't there.

"Peeta? Prim?" I shout, looking around me, finding nothing. I hope they're okay. I take four steps forward when I hear a groan. I look around, and see nothing, so I look down. I see Peeta's eyes and pearly white teeth smiling at me. "Just like how you found me in the arena." Peeta says. This brings back memories, good and bad, for the both of us. We both zone out, and Prim is confused, until she realizes that we are reliving the experience of the arena within a minute. She comforts us, so that we don't have a fit. This has happened before, and Prim has had to deal with it. She is absolutely amazing for it.

"Shhhh.. Don't worry, you're not in the arena any more. You won't lose each other. You'll never be in the arena again. Don't worry." Sometimes, in severe cases, Prim will sing to us. She has a beautiful singing voice. A mix of mine and Rue's and my sister's, but it can only be described as Primrose Rue Everdeen-Mellark's voice. She knows multiple songs to calm us down. This time, she sings 'Deep in the Meadow', the song that I sung Rue to sleep with.

_"Deep in the Meadow, under the willow_

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

_Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

_And when again they open, the sun will rise._

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you."_

The song reminds me of Rue, then Prim, and am about to completely break down, until I realise that I have a Primrose **and** a Rue, all in one, singing to me. By now we have both recovered, and Prim is hugging us both tight, still camouflaged. "Prim, you really are an artist!" I compliment, looking her up and down, wiping the tears from my face. "I think that's enough training for today." Peeta tells us. We nod in agreement. "Peeta, can you start making some tea? I think it may make me less nervous watching the Mandatory Viewing, for the Q.S." I ask. He simply nods and turns away. "Some for me too, please!" Prim calls after him. "Okay." Peeta answers.

_**A/N: A new chapter was requested, so here it is! I almost cried when I typed up the song. (I'm an obsessed nerd and Rue seems like a sister to me for some reason. Don't judge, OK!)**_


	5. Mandatory Viewing

It is 6:30 p.m., and Prim, Finnick and I are curled up on the couch. Training went on for an hour and a half, a little longer than we wanted, and it took an extra 15 minutes to clear away everything. Finnick was back as soon as we finished. Peeta was making tea for Prim, himself and I, and hot chocolate for Finnick. He walks in 10 minutes later and sits beside us. Mandatory viewing begins in 20 minutes. We spend this time asking Finnick how his day went.

"Oh, it was great! We played football, and played a match against his brothers, Ash and Hilt , and we won! Then we played catch, and visited the Butchers." He told us.

"How was Rooba?" I ask.

"Oh, she was good. We played with her daughter, Rose. She said that she is pregnant again! She's hoping for a boy." Finnick answers.

"Well then, tomorrow we must go congratulate someone, wont we?" I say, grinning.

"What did you do with Rose?" Prim asks. Rose is a friend of hers, 10 years old. Luckily, she doesn't need to sign up for tesserae. We try to use some of our money, and my kills from the woods to help families to stop signing up for tesserae. The tributes from 12 are getting much further in the games thanks to it.

"Oh, we played tag, and then she brought us to the meadow. We made you this." Finnick says, handing Prim a flower necklace. It was made Primroses, Daisies, Buttercups, Violets and Dandelions. The Dandelions remind me of that day, the day after Peeta saved my life, the Dandelion on the ground, how I was saved. How I am forever grateful.

"Thank you!" Prim smiles.

"Shh, shh!" Peeta hushes them, as Mandatory Viewing begins.

Ceasar Flickerman appears on screen, smiling, with his hair and suit the color indigo. It doesn't look too bad on him. Much better that the year when he was in Crimson. "Hello Panem! Ceasar Flickerman here!" Ceasar starts. The crowd cheers. "Well, you probably know why you're watching, but just in case you don't, tonight is the announcement of the Quinquennium Supplicium! Isn't that exciting?" He asks. The crowd scream 'yes', in that flamboyant Capitol accent. "Well, before we get President Snow out here, we have something pretty exciting first! It's... the fifteenth anniversary on District 12's star crossed lover's wedding!" The audience gives a mixed response. While some of the Capitol inhabitants still adore Peeta and I, a large part of the Capitol population hates us, for what we did during the rebellion. The celebration for us is a mini-movie. Of our games, of the wedding, of the rebellion. The Capitol loves it. "And now, I give you, President Coriolanus Snow!" Ceasar announces. The crowd are jumping with excitement. The president enters the stage in a black suit, accompanied with a small boy in a matching outfit, carrying an ivory box.. He looks no younger than 10.

The anthem plays. Everyone in the audience and onstage show their respect. Then, Snow gives his annual speech/lecture of the Dark Days, of the Treaty of the Treason, of how the Games were brought around, of the Rebellion, of me. Next, he pulls a card from the ivory box. On the back of it, it has a large _95_ on it. He reads, "This year, to show that even the wealthiest people of Panem cannot overcome the power of the government,"

At the word _government_ I laugh. "Oh, so that's what he's calling it now, is it?" Prim also finds him funny.

Snow continues, "Two adults from the Capitol and two children from the Capitol shall also be reaped to enter the arena. In the Capitol, tesserae will be 10,000 coin." He pauses, to let everyone take it in.

"What? That doesn't make any sense. Why would Snow do this?" Finnick asked, trying to figure out what the devious man is thinking.

"I hope his great-grand-daughter gets reaped." Prim says flatly. I snort at the comment.

After about a minute, Peeta says, "Oh... actually, it does. He's trying to prevent Capitol citizens from funding a rebellion. From supporting a rebellion."

"From supporting us..." I finish. Finnick is confused, and asks me why I just said that, so I reply saying, "People think that I'm _still_ the Mockingjay." That explains to him.

"Wait, if he's putting in Capitol citizens, to lower support of rebellion, and tributes... well then, will I...?" Prim asks, insecure. Then it hits me. Like a blow to the gut. Prim's put two and two together, something I never manage to do on time. What if she's right? What if President Snow is sending her to the arena in two weeks? What will we do? No, no. Prim is strong, and level-headed. She can deal with it, can't she? She will train. Work harder. Be determined to live. I can't possibly deal with losing _another_ Prim; of _another_ Rue dying in the arena. No. She will live. She will defy the Capitol, only not as rebellious as how I did it. I don't want her to suffer what I suffered; to see what I've seen. If she wins though, Snow might sell her body,like he did to Finnick Odair. No. I will not let Prim, **my** Prim, be sold as a Prostitute to those foolish, filthy, brainwashed Capitol people . No. There are few Capitol citizens I know of that aren't, though. Knew, I knew them. They were killed after the rebellion, but, if they were there now, maybe there's still some people like that.

I look to Peeta, who has a worried expression about him. This confuses me, as we knew she would be going in anyways. To reassure him, I whisper "Don't worry, she's strong enough." to him. He nods, and we both turn to Prim, who, despite her calmness, has gone very pale. Finnick notices, and is worried, so he offers to get her some water. It takes a minute for her to register this, so when she replies, she says, "Wh-what? Oh, yes, yes, I would, please." Finnick walked to the kitchen. I use this time to talk to Prim.

"Prim, listen. Don't worry. You are strong. This is a warning, something you don't usually get when it comes to the games. You can do it. Y know what is going to happen, so prepare. We knew this was going to happen at some stage, and you are set for those games, with a little more training. I know, it's **a lot** to take in, but you can do it. When I found out that I would be going into the arena for a second time, well, it was just like this. I got a warning, and I trained. Look where it got _me_. And your father, of course, volunteered to go into the arena with me. Bravery, courage. They run through this family. You will come home to us. I know it." I tell her. All she does is nods. Finnick returns with Prim's water, and sits down.

"Now, I know what you're thinking, this won't really change much, will it? And the answer is no, it will not, so," Snow resumes. " I will not give away anything, but I will say this; there will be a few... _unexpected_... changes in the arena this year. You'll see, when the time comes." Snow smiles, his snake eyes staring right into my own eyes. I feel as though he is watching me. It makes me uncomfortable.

"Well, Panem, that's all we have for now. Make sure to tune in next week for the reapings! So exciting!"Ceasar tells us. The anthem is played once again and then Mandatory Viewing is over. "Well," Peeta says. "That was ..._ interesting_..." Prim leaves the living room, heading to her bedroom. I can tell that she'll be crying. I can't blame her. She's so brave; so strong; so mature for her age. "I'll call you for dinner, okay?" Peeta tells her. She briefly nods in reply.

"Boy, it must be tough for her." I whisper to Peeta. "I wouldn't blame her if she cried all night, but I can't let that happen. I'm going into her, ok?" A nod from him is my answer. Now, for another hard part...

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_**A/N: To anyone that is still interested, **_

_**SO SORRY I'M SO LATE! My laptop is **__**broken, so I use my brothers when he works (3 days a week)**_

_**I had to deal wit Cory Monteith's death (I'm a MEGA GLEEK), deleted this chapter... TWICE**_

_**I'm packing for my holiday (Scheduled tomorrow!), I've been reading a lot of Fanfic, and playing a lot of Computer games...**_

_**I'll try to post more and play League of Legends less...**_

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_**OOoohh... Poor Prim, that's alot to deal with. Will she collapse under the pressure, or rise to the occasion?  
Who knows? I DO! Please review if you liked, or if you think it is terrible, or could be made better, tell me! I  
want to hear YOUR OPINION! Please...**_

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_**BAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!**_


	6. The Diary

_**A/N: Hi Guys! I'm currently in Sunny Spain. HOLIDAYS! As soon as I'm back, I'll upload a SHIZTON of chapters. I'll shut up now...**_

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I am a bit nervous, for Prim. I know nothing is worse than going into the arena, well, there is going in twice, or going in with someone you owe your life to... but that was an unusual occurrence. She had to mature from such a young age, so quickly, for her own sake, as well as mine. Snow visited frequently after she was born, to check that we weren't teaching her to be a rebel. After her 4th birthday, she could speak perfect English, so, we taught her about the terrible world we live in, and how she must hold her tongue about it, especially around that devil named Coriolanus Snow. She caught on almost immediately. Better than me. I have the occasional slip of the tongue, whereas with Peeta, Prim and even Finnick, it never happens.

I walk in and see her sobbing into her pillow, holding Daisy, a plush dalmatian that she got for her 4th birthday. She loved it. It calmed her down at times like this. She rarely needed it, but this was a desperate case.

"Can I come in?" I asked. She didn't look at me, she just nodded. "Don't worry, Prim, you'll come home. I know how you feel. It's not just the Games, it's the hellhole of Panem, really, isn't it? President Snow. The harshness to the Districts. The horror of the Games. How he expects us to be grateful for his _kindness_. Sometimes we hate the escorts more than we hate him, but we must remember, they have to love the Capitol; some have to pretend. Such as Effie Trinket, District 12 escort. My escort. She was tortured so much during the rebellion, she hated wearing the pink wigs, and pretending to like the games. When they tortured her, they wouldn't let her die. Brought her to as low as an inch of her life, yet wouldn't kill her, because of the information she held. She was scared every time she saw a Peacekeeper, but told them nothing. She was extremely brave. Then, when the rebellion ended, they killed her. She fought against what she was told was right. She knew right from wrong. She was very brave, and fought to the bitter end. She played as big a part as I did in the rebellion, by doing so. Every District escort was killed. They were replaced, but never the same. Thanks to Mister Coriolanus Snow. And, who knows, maybe,_ what goes around, comes around_, as they used to say; maybe his Great-Granddaughter, Atrox, will get reaped. One thing's for sure; **You ****_can_**** do this**! You understand the Gamemakers, and you are the child of victors, you will succeed. You will defeat the odds." I encourage her.

She stops crying, looks me in the eyes, and asks, "What if I don't? What if I'm not good enough? What if... I'm killed in my sleep, or the Gamemakers refuse to let me win? What then?" The hurt in her eyes breaks my heart. At this age, she should enjoy life, not be thinking of this. It is this that reminds me that no-one can escape. No-one. Not a single soul. I want to murder Snow right on the spot. I will, eventually. Another rebellion doesn't sound so bad now...

"Shhh, shhh. Prim, don't worry. You'll come back. Who gives a crap about what the Gamemakers say or do? They threw fireballs;I lived. They told Peeta and I to kill each other;we're both still alive. If you have the determination, the strenght and the courage, you'll win. Don't, even for a second, think that you wont live through the arena, because you will. You can hunt. You can climb trees. You do excellent camoflauge. You can make snares. If you avoid the Careers, anything could happen. You will live, as long as there are some trees in the arena, you're safe. Don't underestimate your abilities. Alliances can be good, but be careful. Your allies could be your biggest threats. Choose carefully. It's okay to not want to be a part of their games. Show them that you're not just a piece of their games."

She nods, and before either of us can exchange another word, Peeta calls us for dinner. She heads of to the bathroom, to wash her face. She doesn't want Finnick, or Peeta for that matter, to know what she's been crying. Peeta has made us some cheese buns, some rabbit that I hunted yesterday, some wild onion and some of Lady's goat milk. Finnick, who will eat anything, is already halfway through his share of rabbit. Peeta was waiting for us. I sit beside Peeta, and we wait for Prim. "How was she?" Peeta asks.

"She was really upset, and asked me what if she doesn't live through it. I told her she would, and to ignore the Gamemaker's plans. She doesn't want you to know she was crying. She wants to come of as strong, as it will help her for the games. She knows how to play her cards. She just needs a confidence boost. I think I'll go hunting with her tomorrow." I reply, quietly as so Finnick doesn't hear. Prim walks in, and her face lights up when she sees the food. Peeta knows that she's had a rough time, and that she loves cheese buns and rabbit, so this was a good choice.

During dinner, Prim keeps Finnick distracted, asking him various questions about his day, while Peeta and I talk about training, the games, and even the interviews. We want the district escort, Bellum Trinket, to have to do as little work with Prim as possible. Prim will be more eager to learn, as her life literally depends on it. She will want to keep people alive, but she understands that life is at stake. She knows not to go attacking tributes unless they attack you or it's the final two. She will kill quickly, unlike Careers. She knows how the odds wont be in the other tribute's favour, but there's nothing she can do about it. She'll let them die with dignity, as any kind person would.

"I just don't think she'll be able to kill, considering her kind-heartedness." Peeta whispers. This gets me thinking. True, she will find it difficult, but she won't have much choice. "She will try not to kill, but if she has to, or comes across a dying, defenceless tribute, she will. She would rather make a person's death quick, than have them die slowly and painfully. That's how kind-hearted she is. She will be no Cashmere, and **certainly** no Titus. She will injure, but not kill. She will choose flight over fight. I'm scared that the Careers may chase her down, but considering her agility, she'll out-run them. She's perfect. She's great when it comes to everything, arena-wise. She'll live, unless the Careers go overdrive, and decide to get revenge for Glimmer, Marvel and Cato..." I answer, finishing my onion and rabbit. All I have left is my cheese buns, as I save the best for last.

When we all finish up, Finnick goes to bed and Prim gets her two writing books - her diary and her 'written stories' book, and starts writing. Peeta and I discuss the Games for about half an hour, before Prim walks over and joins the conversation. "Mom, Dad, what if I was wrong about me going in this year? What if I was just over-dramatising it?" She questions.

"If that is true, then you are lucky, and ready for the future." I tell her.

"Prim, how did you feel when you figured out that it may be a warning? Besides scared." Peeta queries.

"Well, besides fear, I felt stress, hate and a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach."

"Ahh... so it is true then." Peeta half-whispers.

"What?" Prim and I wonder.

"I get that feeling too, when I feel like something might happen; it's your instincts and conscience; it's what you feel when your almost certain that something will happen. When I get that feeling, it's usually true. The one time I can remember it wasn't was me thinking that Katniss - your mother - would never love me."

At this, I hug Peeta. "So, basically, it most likely **will** happen?" Prim asks. Peeta nods in reply. Prim smiles and tells us "I love you. Thank you, so much." as she joins the hug.

When she's freed, she resumes writing in her diary; the place where she keeps her innermost thoughts and secrets. It was given to her for her eight birthday by no other than the District seven victor, Blight. It holds about one thousand, five hundred pages. She doesn't mind me reading it, so long as we rarely talk about the contents. I remember reading it about a week before her tenth birthday, She wrote something completely unexpected and surprising. It was about her best friend, Dillon. It read:

_Dillon and I were playing truth or dare, when he got truth, I asked him "Who do you have a crush on?" and he blushed crimson. I repeated the question and he looked at his feet, mumbling three words. I told him that I didn't hear him, and he said three words, very clearly. Those words were Primrose Rue Mellark! I didn't expect this, and had a very shocked look on his face. He turned away from me, not daring to look me in the eye. I secretly had a crush on him too. We had been friends for years. I thought my crush would never become something real. I think he was expecting a reply, so I moved my face in front of his, and kissed his lips. His reaction was slightly delayed, probably as a result of shock. Once he got over shock, he broke away, and I said "Well, are we a thing now?" Not sure what was going on. In reply, he kissed me back. I broke away, and he said "You guess", with a smile on his face. I smiled also, hugging him. I whispered to him "Don't tell anyone; not yet, kay?" and replied with a nod. We are now, as much as two ten year old children can be, boyfriend and girlfriend. He is ten months older than me, but that doesn't matter. I hope this is a long-lasting relationship.  
_

It turns out that they still are, and Prim even started teaching him how to hunt. A worry that I have kept to myself is the fact that they could both be sent into the arena. Hopefully, The odds will be in their favor. However, the odds don't seem to be very dependable for my family, of late.


	7. Hunting

_**A/N: Hi guys! Update here. Please stick with me. I got my new laptop! New laptop dance! Updates will be sooner,**_

_**if you stick with me. PLEASE DO... BAI!... Please review, PLEASE... :3**_

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The next morning, I wake up at dawn, which is about 6 a.m. I check to see if anyone else is awake; no one is. I eat some fruit & nut bread for breakfast, and get ready for hunting. I don't want to waste time, so, at around 6:30, I walk upstairs to Prim's room and wake her, whispering "Be quiet. We don't want to wake your father or Finnick! Come on, we're going hunting!" Her facial expression tells me how she feels. Ecstatic. We rarely hunt together, and Prim treasures every time that we do.

Prim is the perfect tribute. She can climb the thinnest trees; perfectly skin rabbit and squirrel; she can shoot a groosling or turkey dead before they even know that they're in view. She'll be fine food-wise. She'll definitely ally with the District 12 male, whoever he is, and maybe with the tributes from 11, 14(which was the _United Kingdom_), or 20 (previously _The Netherlands_). The one problem will be the Careers. From districts 1, 2, 4 and 18. District 18 specialize in weaponry. Sounds like the perfect Career District, I thought. It seems Snow thought that too, as he built a training center in District 18. The Careers from 18 were accepted by the other Careers almost immediately, whom saw them as more help, not more competition. They are the perfect Careers, too. The country that 18 is placed over, were very involved in two very dangerous wars, before the Dark Days, called the _World Wars_. Many millions died in them, and the second one was ran by one man, who chose his Capitol to be there. He was like a past Snow. Snow is like a present him. They're like twins, but from different times.

As we hunt, I see a flock of groosling. I turn to tell Prim, but she's already shot three dead. She has amazing reflexes. I shoot one by the time she's shot her fifth. All 6 in the flock are dead. "Prim... wow. That was... incredible. Better than me..." I complement, stunned by her actions. She blushes and mumbles "Thanks."

"No, Prim. That was absolutely fabulous. That... that was better than anything I can do." I tell her honestly. "Those reflexes could save your life. I know killing a person is different, and I tried to kill as few as possible. I only killed two people in my time in the arena. Marvel, the boy from one, because he threw the spear that killed Rue; and Cato, the boy from two, because he was dying a slow, painful death, and I wanted his pain to end. Those reflexes though, mutt-wise, could be your savior. You will have to kill; you'll be forced to kill, but that doesn't mean that you can't apologize for it, or say goodbye. You can." She nods her head, mutters something I don't hear, and we continue through the woods.

*"^"*  
We come home with the six groosling, a squirrel and two rabbits. We pluck the groosling, skin the squirrel and rabbit, and head off to the Hob. Even though the coal warehouse was useless since we directly send coal to the Capitol, the warehouse was rebuilt, and abandoned immediately, re-building the Hob. We trade three groosling with Greasy Sae, which earns us a few chuncks o parrafin and promise of soup when needs be; both rabbits and a groosling to Rooba, which gets us 25 coins; the squirrel goes to Ripper for free, which leaves us with two groosling. We go home, and find no-one is home. I look to the clock; 1:20. "That's right," Prim says, looking away from the clock, "Dad and Finnick are working at the bakery." She grins.

"Well then," I begin, almost certainly thinking the same thing she is. "Maybe, we can do some more... training?"

"Yes!" Prim squeals in delight. There's my little girl. I head for the supplies, grabbing throwing knives, an axe, the edible plants book, fire starters (un-needed), some string, some groosling feathers and my quiver of arrows."Now Primrose, where shall we start today? Hmm?" I ask, trying, and failing, to hide the smile on my face. She chooses the obvious choice; bow-crafting. We take to the woods once again, for prim to find a suitable branch. Once she does, she removes the bark and starts putting it into shape. I give her the string, leaving all the work to her, and watch. She cuts just the right amount if string, and within the next two minutes,has a new, fully functioning bow. She already knows how to make arrows, and crafts a dozen. She moves on to the throwing knives, which she finds difficult at first, but manages to improve. She doesn't need to be professional, so it doesn't necessarily matter. "You know, I could probably do it." Prim grins. throwing her last knife, which ends up slightly off-target. Her words have taken me aback. "Of course you could. You will. Don't underestimate your abilities." I tell her. We put the supplies away and have some cheese buns that Peeta left for us for lunch.

Peeta and Finnick arrive awhile after Prim and I had lunch. We're watching some Capitol comedy movie, which doesn't disappoint. The boys join us, laughing at the movie. It's nice to have something that makes us smile at a time like this. Seeing Prim laugh reminds me just how young she is; just how terrible Snow is. We enjoy the rest of the movie eating a food called "popcorn", which is delicious, as expected, with it coming from the Capitol. I heard that this food was eaten before Panem even existed. We laugh through the movie, and when it is over Peeta goes off to make dinner, while Prim, Finnick and I watch some Capitol kid's movie, which isn't too bad, all things considered. Finnick is delighted with it, and Prim seems to enjoy it too. They are being children, which is all I want, and that makes me smile, too. I absent-mindedly run my fingers through Prim's long blond curls. It soothes me, in a strange way; it calms me.

After the second movie ends, we have dinner; roast groosling with carrot and roast potato. It's a nice meal. Prim and Finnick go to bed once their finished, leaving Peeta and I to discuss today's training. "So, how'd it go?" Peeta asks, sipping his tea.

"Good; Prim can make a bow, and a good one at that. She tried the throwing knives. She's no Clove, but she's good. Not great, but good." I tell him.

"I was thinking, and I'd like to bring Prim to the bakery tomorrow, get her to loft some of the flour sacks. It'll be useful if she can hold a large weight. " Peeta points out. I nod in agreement.

"Speaking of the bakery, how was it with Finnick today?" I ask, trying to talk about the games as little as possible.

"Oh, he was good. He enjoyed trying to ice the cakes. He has quite a steady hand." Peeta inform me.

"Oh, well he must get that from both of us." I say, smiling. Peeta yawns, finishing his tea. "I think someones a little tired." I tell him, getting up from the chair. I head up the stairs behind him, struggling to hold back a yawn. In truth, I'm exhausted, both physically and mentally. Peeta kisses me goodnight, and I kiss him back, heading into the bedroom. I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

*"^"*  
_I am surrounded by trees. It is a familiar scene. Then it hits me; **the arena**. My arena, the place that haunts me even though I certainly will never be going back. I am running, though to where I don't know, but I keep running. I stop in some bushes. I see a table, and a girl running up to it; **Foxface**. I am running next, and then I am on my back, someone kneeling on my chest. It's Clove. She's playing her knife around my face. I see a dead Rue, a dead Peeta, two dead Finnicks, two, almost identical, twelve-year-old Prims. Cato is now here, and Foxface is cutting off my hands, with a knife she must've had. Clove is saying that she is "Getting revenge for Glimmer and Marvel," and that "There's no lover boy to save you now." Then, Peeta's dead body is left with me; And my mother's and sister's; And my children's._

_*"^"*_

I wake up, a covered in a thin sheen of sweat. I scream, but quickly calm once I see Peeta lying beside me, his harms holding me tight as if to say that he'll never let go; never leave me. I take one of the pills we have for really bad nights, like tonight for me, and have a glass of water. I soon fall into a dreamless, or more of a nightmare-less sleep.


	8. Some Rest

**_A/N: So, guys... I'm trying to sort out a routine, and considering I'll have to start learning more Irish, French, LATIN, and other secondary school work, I'll be updating every Sunday, or every two Sundays. Sorry for the horrid breaks! :(_**

**_A shout out to a fellow author/friend I.R.L, Darkweepingtimeeater! She only has one story up, but she's a good author, with much more plans! Check her out! Or not, whatever... :P_**

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I wake up when I feel Peeta getting off the bed. He's getting dressed to go out to the bakery. "Hey." I mumble, only half-awake. He smiles an kisses my cheek. "Hey." he replies, pulling his jeans on.

"Is Finnick going with you?" I ask, yawning. He nods, and leaves the room. He must be going to get Finnick and Prim. I don't get up until I hear the door shut.

I get out of bed and have a short shower. Once I am fully cleaned I step out from the water rushing down on me, dry myself and get dressed; a pale blue dress, almost completely identical to that of my mothers, which I wore to the reaping of my first time in the arena, besides for one thing - there's that stench of blood and roses; the smell of Coriolanus Snow. I search the breast pocket, and find a small piece of fabric, the color of the dress, that is producing the scent. I go downstairs and start a fire, simply to burn the fabric. Once the fire is flickering, I throw the fabric into it. The flames burn the fabric quickly. "Fire beats roses." I say. I have no need to worry about what Snow hears; we both publicly announced our hatred for each other. _That'll happen on a larger scale, eventually._ I add, but this time in my head. Even though I don't fear Snow, I don't want him taking family away from me, or me from them.

I find some cheese buns Peeta left for me. They've gone cold by the time I get my hands on them, so put them in a "microwave", to re-heat them. Once I hear the "beep" of the microwave, I pull out the cheese buns, which wasn't the best idea. The cheese buns burn my fingers. Nothing major, but painful, nonetheless. Thankfully, as a result of my time in the arena, I've learned to deal with burns, first and second degree. I put the cheese buns on a plate, before rushing to the sink. I turn on the tap and let the cool water flow over my burnt fingers. How did Peeta live at the bakery? I will never know.

I spend the day in the house; sitting on the couch and watching some Capitol drama. A blonde man named Hero, who resembles Finnick Odair, besides for the Capitol-esque flamboyancy, is on the screen. It's very Capitol-like, the show. I don't really pay attention until they start arguing. A woman, named Bellona, who is apparently based off Annie Cresta, is beautiful, though she must think her hair is disgusting, not being a neon color. She is shouting at Hero about her pregnancy, and how it will ruin her looks. Hero simply says get rid of it, but she wont. "WHY BLOODY NOT!?" I shout at the T.V. "YOU DON'T WANT THE BLASTED CHILD, SO WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU KEEP IT!?" It takes me a minute to realize what I did, and just how foolish it was, and I start laughing at myself. I can be so foolish sometimes, but who can blame me? I'm nothing in comparison to those Capitolites. I have only ever met two Capitolites who had any common sense; Cinna and Effie, although Effie seemed to be one of the most stupid people in Panem. She was able to hide her hatred; her rage towards the Capitol. I feel terrible that she ever had to wear those preposterous pink wigs. And she had to grow up in the Capitol. How hard would it have been, to know that what you and everyone around you is taught is wrong? I will never know. Effie was stronger than me. She fought her whole life, while living there, and she had to be an escort. Poor Effie. At least she doesn't any more. And Cinna, the man who gave me inspiration; who gave me my name. I miss him deary, but there's no point moaning about it; I can't bring him back, but one day, one day, I'll get revenge for Cinna and Effie; for Finnick, Annie, Johanna, Prim, Gloss, Cahsmere, Enobaria, Mags; I will get revenge for all of them. Eventually.

I must have fallen asleep, for when I next look at the clock, it's 5:47. "Peeta will be home soon." I tell myself. Surely enough, ten minutes later, Peeta and the children are coming through the door; a cake box in Peeta's hand. "I made a cake!" Finnick exclaims.

"No," Prim corrects him,. "_We_ made a cake, silly."

"Prim, always right, aren't we?" Peeta smirks, and I can't help but snigger. Prim scowls at us.

"No Primrose, scowling is your _mother's_ thing!" I tell her. Peeta laughs at this, and Prim's scowl stays the same. Finnick can't help but laugh. Prim joins in with the laughter.

"So, what's for dinner?" Finnick asks once we stop laughing. Prim giggles

"Honestly Finnick, are you _ever_ not hungry?" This makes Peeta and I smirk.

"Well, I was thinking some lamb stew." I say proudly. "I'll even make it."

"Okay Katniss, but only because you're making dinner." Peeta says. "I'll go sit down with Prim and Finnick."

"In the dining room." I call as they leave the room. It's easy really, to be the happy family, but we can't be a happy family, not when the Games and Snow are there to haunt us. It's just cruel. But one day the Games will be no more, even If I'm not alive to see it. Making the stew is quite simple; I take out a few tins, empty them, and cook the contents. That's all. But to the Capitolites, doing that is as hard as competing in the Games. So so foolish.

Once it's done, I bring the lamb stew into the dining room. I sit between Peeta and Prim. "So, how was today?" I whisper to Prim, before taking a mouthful of the stew.

"It was good." Prim says bluntly.

"She could lift them no problem by the end of the day." Peeta murmurs into my ear. I smile, swallowing some stew.

"Good. Not much left to learn. Here, anyways. I think she should work on her fire-starting. It can help to get a quick fire started; give others an obstacle. If she's being chased by someone who has a mêlée weapon, a fire in front of them wouldn't really give them an advantage, would it?" I say. Peeta nods.

"She can work on knot-tying during training; give Madson some company." Peeta adds in. Madson is the coach for knot-tying. He was trained in a school that teaches practically everything you would do in District 4. Industrial, that is. He's one of the kindest coaches, and a friend of Peeta's. I nod in agreement, and dive back into my food.

Finnick and I finish our dinner at the same time, and I take mine and Finnick's plate into the kitchen, and put them into a machine that cleans the dishes and cutlery, called a "dishwasher". It's a very complicated machine, with much more buttons than needed.

When I head back into the dining room, Peeta and Prim are in a deep conversation, which ends shortly after I enter the room. "Daddy and I were thinking," Prim begins, sounding childish. "And I wan't to look for a reaping dress. Prepare myself. I want to look my best if I'm being sent to the Capitol." Prim sounds a lot like Madge, on the day of my reaping.

"Okay, we'll look for a nice dress for you to wear." I agree.

"Hey, Katniss." Peeta calls, as a turn to leave the room. I turn back to face him. "That dress looks beautiful on you. Almost as beautiful as it did when you were sixteen." I can't help but smile, blushing slightly. Prim giggles, sounding like a complete merchant. Then I remember she is.

"That dress was probably burned before I turned seventeen. This dress, I asked for it to be specifically tailored. A reminder of my mother." I say.

"What was auntie Prim like? and Grandmother?" Prim asks.

"Well, as you know, when I was eleven, my father died in a mining accident. My mother fell into some very bad..." I stop to think of a suitably word. "Depression. She was too ill to work, so auntie Prim and I had no food. One day, I took some of auntie Prim's baby clothes to the hob, to try and get some money for food. No one bought them. At the end of the day, it begun raining, and I dropped the clothes in a puddle. I didn't even pick them up. I thought of looking in the baker's bins for some thrown away food, but they were empty. Then your other grandmother, Peeta's mother, came out and shouted at me to get away. I walked away and sat at the end of an apple tree. I had no energy to go home; I couldn't see auntie Prim like that; still starving. I heard more shouting, and I thought Mrs. Mellark was coming out, but it was Peeta. He had "accidentally" burnt some bread," I emphasise 'accidentally'. "And threw it to me, risking punishment. It was slightly burned in areas, but perfectly edible. Peeta saved me. And auntie Prim. I never quite trusted my mother after that."

"Then, five years later, at auntie Prim's first reaping, she was reaped. I volunteered, and then your father was reaped. I wore one of my mother's dresses, one from her days of being a merchant. The dress I am wearing right now is a replica of the one I wore to that reaping."

Prim nods, and asks "What did auntie Prim wear?"

"She wore a skirt, and a white blouse that was slightly too big for her. It kept un-tucking at the back, and making a duck tale, so I called her my little duck." I smile at the memory.

"Alright, enough story time, it's time for bed." Peeta yawns.

"What time is it?" Finnick asks, fighting off a yawn.

"It's 10:30." Peeta answers.

"What!?" I exclaim. "10:30!? I should be in bed!" Prim laughs at this. "That's enough from you, little duck." I say, standing up.

Peeta and I take Prim and Finnick to bed, before heading up ourselves. I sleep a nice sleep, without any nightmares, only dreams of the happiness shared today.


	9. Dress Shopping

The next morning I am awaken by Primrose's girlish squeals. "Come on! We have to get me a new dress!" Peeta is laughing at the situation, not bothering to hep me. I yawn, my eyes adjusting to the brightness of the room.

"Prim, it's too _early_." I moan, wanting to stay in bed. She giggles, and I know why. When I was her age, I' be awake since before dawn to go hunting.

"Oh Katniss, don't be silly. It's past noon." Peeta informs me. I jolt up when I hear how late I've slept. Prim babbles about what color dress she would like while I go to the bathroom and splash my face with some water to wake myself up.

"So Prim, want to get going?" Peeta asks when I exit the bathroom. Prim nods, and they leave the room.

"Hey!?" I shout. "Come on! Wait for me! I have to get dressed!" I take a skirt and a t-shirt from my wardrobe, and get dressed. I run down the stairs, grab the cheese bun Peeta was about to eat from his hand, and take a bite.

"Hey!" Peeta exclaims, shocked by my actions.

"Peeta, are you **really** shocked by that? Do you not **remember** the girl you fell in love with?!" I ask, before eating the rest of the cheese bun. "That's what you get for not waiting." Prim giggles at my remark. "What're you laughing at?" I ask Prim. This only makes her giggle more. I sigh, and walk into the living room. Finnick is sitting in there, reading a book.

"Finnick, let's get going. We have to go dress shopping for Prim!" I say, a little too optimistically for Finnick's liking.

"Fine." He sighs, getting up from the sofa. I know he doesn't want to do this, but Prim is my main concern right now. She's the one who'll more than likely be reaped this year, not Finnick.

*"^"*  
Thirty minutes later, we're at the Tailors. Prim goes to talk to Dillon, who's father happens to own the tailors, while Peeta tells Dillon's Father, Mr. Cartwright, who was Delly's brother, what we want for Prim.

"A lemon yellow dress," Peeta requests. "with some small purple primroses sewn below the waist on the left side please, Marcus." Mr. Cartwright nods, and heads off to collect Prim.

"Peeta, I just realized that our daughter is in a relationship with your late best friend's nephew. Small District." I point out. He smiles, and nods in agreement. Marcus rejoins us a minute later, followed by a smiling Primrose.

"Enjoying yourself, are you?" Peeta smirks. Prim sticks out her tongue at him in response. Mr. Cartwright has some lemon yellow fabric, and is forming a dress around Prim before us. He has steady hands, and is as fast as lightning. The dress is fully shaped for Prim's body. He marks the fabric where he'll need to cut away, and before we know it, Prim is wearing a new dress. He sews six small purple Primroses below her waist on her left, per Peeta's requests. Prim is smiling from ear to ear. "_Someone's_ happy." Finnick grumbles through a frown.

I scowl at him, and he grins sheepishly. I actually laugh at his reaction.

Soon after, we're free to go. Prim kisses Dillon goodbye, and we leave. "Katniss, can you imagine if **we** were together when we were twelve?" Peeta asks. I explode into a fit of laughter, and Prim sniggers. We arrive home in a good mood, as it should be.

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_**A/N: Hi guys! I wrote just a small chapter as celebration, I'm starting boarding school today! Update SHOULD be next Sunday, but don't hold me to that. I'll update by next Sunday, promise! :) Please review :) Another shout-out to my friend Darkweepingtimeeater, for helping me with issues involving what Prim wears! Thanks!**_


	10. Family Fun

_**A/N: Hi guys! I was actually going to upload this yesterday, but the boarding school was all, "Hey, wouldn't it be hilarious if we turned off the internet when Aaron only has three more words to type!", and so I had to wake up at 10 to 7 to re-type this! And I didn't have to be up 'til like 8:30! But, you guys are worth it. :) Keep reading!**_

_**(In reply to a guest's review) Thank you! It's nice to hear compliments! And thanks for bothering to read, let alone review, my story!**_

_**Now for the actual chapter! Please review, if you like it! Or not, whatever; your choice.**_

_**(I only realise now that I haven't done this before , but here goes) **__**Disclaimer: I don't own THG. Sadly. Which is why I'm on FAN-FICTION. FAN. FAN. Proving I am just a little nerdy fan, and NOT the author, who is an amazing woman: Suzanne Collins! Woo!**_

* * *

We enter our house in Victor's Village with smiles on our faces. All is going well. For now. Judging by the odds, Snow will somehow come and mess everything up. Oh how I detest that creature.

Prim is still grinning from ear to ear. She loves that dress. I''ll get to it before an avox does on the train, and she'll have it back if she wins. No, she'll have it **when** she wins. I'm worried about 12's mane this year. He could range from some poor, starving 10 year old to a career-bodied 19 year old. _Dumb games. Scaring everyone with chance._

"Why must this happen?" I ask absent-mindedly.

"What?" Peeta asks, not sure of what I'm talking about.

"Thinking aloud. Sorry!" I apologise, cursing myself in my head; why must I be so... careless? I guess I'll just always have that little spark of rebellion inside. Well, maybe it's more than a "little spark", but any ways, I must be careful and weary in future. Next time it could be worse; a lot worse.

*"^"*  
I walk into the living room to find Finnick and Prim playing the Game Cube: Some District 3 or Capitol invention made to entertain children. I find myself often playing it with Peeta, Prim and Finnick.

"Who plugged it into the TV?" I ask, hoping Prim hasn't shown Finnick how to, in which case he'll be awake before dawn each day to play it. The answer is one I hadn't wanted.

"Prim taught me how to!" Finnick smiles. I frown at Prim, who simply smirks in reply.

"No playing before your father and I are out of bed." I tell Finnick, who seems slightly dissapointed with the rule. I see the game chip Prim is about to insert onto the Game cube, and I can't help but grin at the game; a racing game, where you design and upgrade your car. It's my favourite of all the games we play.

"Ooh! Can I play!?" I ask, sounding like a 12 year old Capitolite. Prim smirks again, but nods.

"You'd think _I_ was the mother here." Prim comments. I stick out my tongue at her playfully. Finnick laughs and hands me a controller.

"Let the race begin!" Finnick announces once the game starts. Prim's car speeds past Finnick's, before drifting alongside me. She bumps her car into mine, and flies past.

"You've gotten good, my dear Primrose," I compliment, before driving right by her, "but not good enough." I add. Prim moans saying it's not fair, but Finnick is quick to correct her, saying it **is** fair if she's just not good enough. Prim scowls.

"Prim stop scowling." I frown. "Look where it got me." She knows what I mean by that, and so does Finnick – leader of a failed rebellion in which I was tortured, my family and best friend killed, and my one love hijacked into wanting to kill me; not exactly the desired life.

The scowl was a sign of my hatred towards Snow; towards the Games. It was a sign of rebellion, and a proud one at that.

Prim nods in reply, before mouthing the words "I'll come back" to me. Her self-confidence makes me happy. She'll need it in the arena. Oh, it would be all too funny if we were all just to paranoied, and Prim doesn't get reaped, but according to Peeta, that's very unlikely to happen. Possible, but very unlikely.

Prim wins the race, before Peeta comes in and joins in. We play on teams this time – Peeta and I vs. Prim and Finnick. It's actually quite a fair fight – Peeta being about as good as Finnick, whilst Prim and I are the main rivalry.

It's fun, and a close round, but I steal the victory by speeding ahead of Prim in the last five seconds.

"Well, well, well. Prim seems to be getting better." She smiles at him cutely and blushes slightly in reply. Finnick offers to play another round, but it's only Prim who accepts.

"We have to go and make supper." Peeta tries to excuse us, but I ruin it on him. "We!? I think you mean '**you** have to go and make supper'," I snort. "I'm staying here and watching our lovely children play." Prim sniggers at my cheek, and Finnick bursts into a fit of giggles.

*"^"*  
Three rounds later, two won by Prim and the other by Finnick, Peeta calls us to the kitchen, for food. As usual – steak with potatoes, peas and carrots. Finnick digs in, but Peeta and I take our time. Prim, being the child that rarely eats, barely dents her food by the time Finnick's done.  
I find it hard to believe that **25 years ago** Peeta saved me from starvation and gave me motivation, and now we are both married victors of **2** Hunger Games, and living in utter riches and luxuries.

Once we're all finished, Peeta heads back into the kitchen with the plates and cutlery, telling us to stay where we are, only to return to us with an apple pie! Prim and Finnick both squeal in delight, and I can't help but say "Mmm" When I take my first bite.

*"^"*  
Once we finish devouring the pie, we go into the living room, and watch a movie. It is very old; filmed long long before the Dark Days. It's called 'The Lord of the Rings', a mystic, entertaining movie.

After the movie finshes, Peeta and I put Finnick and Prim to bed.

"I'll do it, you know." Prim whispers as I turn to leave her bedroom.

"I know you will." I reply. She's already half-asleep, but I still add "Goodnight."

Peeta and I walk to our room. We exchange our Good Night's and a kiss, and we fall asleep. The last thought in my head is _four more days_.


	11. Like a Squirrel

_Three days. Three days, and then my daughter's safety will disappear. Poof! Gone. Does that worry me? Of course. But I'm more worried about something else: Our male tribute. If Dillon is reaped, I don't think Prim will cope. It's hard enough to __**know**__ you're going into the arena, but then, going in with you're love? Of course, as much of "her love" as he can be, both of them being twelve. It seems Prim hasn't considered the possibility, or refuses to let herself. And, if he __**is**__ reaped, well, she'll be onstage by that time. I was five years older than she is now when I found out I had to go into the arena with Peeta again, and that was before my true love for him was discovered. She's strong, though. She'll hold a brave face for the cameras, even if a starving 10 year old friend of hers is reaped alongside her._

Thinking of which, we'll have to give her some tips for when she's reaped: - the emotion-less expression she'll wear on her face; the way she stands; whether she'll show the flicker of hatred in her eyes that I have. So much preparations, and yet, we must make it look like we didn't see this coming. Peeta'll be fine, but my acting skills never did fool Snow...

*"^"*  
"Prim" I call, searching around the house for her.

"We're playing hide and seek," Finnick informs me, "I'm trying to find Prim."

"Well, please tell her that I would like to speak to her when you find her." I ask. He nods and resumes his search. He goes into the dining room, and I follow. He searches almost every possible hiding place for Prim, but doesn't spot her; I do. She's o the chandelier that hangs over the dining table, resembling a squirrel, and I am reminded of Rue. It's all I can do not to laugh at her placement or cry at the reminder, but I manage to keep a straight face.

Finnick doesn't seem to notice Prim, so I walk out. Best let him do things on his own. He'll ask for help if he needs any.

Peeta's heading out to the bakery when I see him. "Bye! I'll be back by six!" he calls.

"Love you." I reply, just before the door slams shut. I just sit down when I hear Finnick shout.

"Aha! **There** you are!" I smile at how quickly he found her, all things considered, and head for the dining. I enter the room just as Prim jumps down. She almost kicks me in the face, but misses by about a centimetre. I can't help but gasp at how close she was to kicking me. I don't even notice that she's lying on the ground before me until her groan. "What's wrong?" I ask, hoping she hasn't broken anything.

"My arm." She manages to moan. Good, at least she can walk and run.

Finnick and I help her up, before I diagnose her. Maybe "diagnose" is an exaggeration. I find a large purple bruise on her right forearm. Lucky she's left-handed.

"Try moving it." I instruct her. She complies, moving it slowly.

"The bruise just looks bad; it should be fine for reaping day." I tell her. Finnick frowns at the thought of another reaping. I can't imagine how or when we'll tell him about Prim going in. but it wont be easy.

Prim surprises me completely, and tells Finnick the **whole** story. He doesn't while she talks, just looks at her with sorrow. There's nothing she doesn't tell Finnick. She even mentions the training.

When she's finally finished, Finnick hugs her, and whispers "You can do it. You **will** do it." Even **he** knows she has the ability to come home. "Just remember," he adds a minute later, "Don't lose who you really are. Remember who you are now I don't want a different sister coming home to me."

The words hit me like a blow to the gut. My Finnick, my 7 old son, wants Prim to do what a victor seldom does: keep their humanity. Something Peeta and rarely anyone else who won the games have done. Of course, it's possible, but unlikely.

Even Prim must know this, but she nods anyways.

*"^"*  
Peeta returns home with, judging by the scent, is full of cookies. Finnick sneaks up to Peeta and tries to peak at the contents of the box, only being told to stop messing by Peeta, and Prim doesn't even try to hold back giggles.

While Peeta makes dinner, as he usually does, I tell him that Finnick knows. Again, I keep my worries that Dillon may "coincidentally" get reaped as well, to myself.

Peeta isn't sure how to react. He's happy that we don't have to keep secrets from Finnick anymore, but angry at the Capitol for making all this happen. I can see it in his eyes, but only for a moment. He easily masks his anger, but occasionally, that mask will drop. Only for a second or two, though, before it's put back on.

Dinner is a pleasant affair; groosling, wild carrots and peas which we have grown ourselves. Peeta and Prim talk freely about this year's Games, with finnick adding in comments randomly, and I just sit there, eating, thinking of how Prim will present herself. Tomorrow we'll discuss it.

After we have finished eating, we go to the living room and play a board game which apparently is thousands of years old. It is called _Monopoly_. It's very technological. Basically, it involves a lot of Capitol advancement - holographics and stuff like that. Highly upgraded from the original.

*"^"*  
When we finish playing, the victory going to Peeta, we eat most of the cookies and discuss whether or not Finnick can come to the Capitol this year. Peeta flatly says no; that there's no point whatsoever, but I think we can use Finnick to get sponsors, if he's willing to. Finnick, who of course wants nothing but for Prim to come back, immediately agrees. I explain that if Finnick acts slightly over-dramatic when Prim is reaped, and is constantly upset in the Capitol, surely the Capitolites will take pity on him.

Peeta eventually gives in, and Finnick is grinning from ear to ear, and I have no idea why. I guess I'll never fully understand the minds of my children...

Once the discussion ends, Peeta heads straight for bed, leaving me to put the kids to bed.

"Finnick, why are you so excited about going to the Capitol?" I ask once he's in his bed. "Because it's so... **colourful**." he answers. I don't fully believe him, but I don't question any further. Instead, I whisper goodnight, kiss his forehead, and go to Prim's room. She's already lying in bed, eyes heavy when I enter. i simply whisper goodnight, leave her room and go to bed. I feel Peeta's arms wrap around me just before I doze off.

* * *

**_A/N: SO sorry for not uploading this last Sunday, but while my laptop was charging, someone broke it! It's currently off for repair and I am forced to use the school computers, which are usually in use :P I'll try update by next Sunday, by which time I'll have my laptop back! Keep reading! Bye!_**


	12. Only the Beginning

I am awaken by Finnick's hollers of victory. Peeta has been woken up too, but he just laughs. I don't know what seems funny about being awoken at half past seven in the morning. As much as I don't want to, I still get out of bed.

I walk into the living room, greeted by a dancing Finnick and a frowning Prim. "I asked you to do one thing! Just to let me sleep!" I exclaim. "Oh well, I might as well have a game, then!". Prim hands me a controller and we play.

After one race, Peeta also joins in and we play another couple of races.

*"^"*  
By midday, we're dressed, fed and playing in the meadow. Finnick is being chased by Peeta and Prim, while I try to obscure his path. It's fun, being a happy family. But the reaping is soon, and that'll change everything. No more smiles, but that's absolutely fine for me; I get to show my true feelings towards the games, again. Even if only through the fact that Prim is reaped.

Once the fun and games is over, we go home to get started on Prim's final training session, but this time, we'll discuss behavior and presentation.

"Now Primrose," I begin, "the reaping is very close to us, and this is you're last training session. But, instead of skills for inside the arena, we are going to work on your reputation; how you present yourself can really affect sponsors." Peeta nods in agreement.

"We want **you** to pick how we represent you. We'll give you tips and pointers, but at the end of the day, you make the final decision." Peeta informs her. She mumbles "okay..." quietly.

"Well, what I think is vital is your facial expression. Don't show fear when you're reaped or in danger. However, if you want to, you can show some hatred; some fire in your eyes. It got me somewhere. People will think that you're a steady contender, what with you being a child of victors. If you show them the right stuff, you're set." I explain.

"Okay, I have an idea: I'm gonna do what they want me to do - seem confident, look grateful, all of that stuff. But, I'll also be a rebel - show my hatred, let the fire burn. They'll like it. And, who knows, it could spark something revolutionary..." Prim tells us. Peeta and I nod in agreement and I can't fight the smile from creeping up on my face.

*"^"*  
"Now Prim, the Capitol will expect you to be somewhat childish," Peeta begins, "and you're going to have to pretend to be. So we want you to act like a regular girl."

"Sounds easy." She shrugs.

*"^"*  
It appears to be more difficult than inclined. We always knew Prim was special, in a good way, of course. But this is tougher than what we expected. She, like myself, is a true rebel, not a childish girl.

Eventually, she gets it; she seems like a regular 12 year old, and it makes me happy. Of course, I know it's not real, but she looks and acts the part.6+0..

*"^"*  
It's gone seven when she fully has it. We've even gotten down to the interviews. She's going to appear a sweet, young girl, who's confident that, if she tries hard, she'll be one of the serious contenders.

It is only when Peeta offers to make dinner that I realise that I've barely eaten all day and I'm not hungry.

"I'm not very hungry, Peeta. You make the dinner."

"What's the magic word" he asks. I sigh ], before replying with please.

Prim plays the Gamecube while I lie and watch her, trying to get hold of what's been going on this past week. _Firstly, I was worried that Prim could get reaped , so I told Peeta, and he agreed. Then, we consulted Prim and she wanted to start training. She made a bow and some snares, we hunted. Camouflage, knives, a trip to the tailor, presentation._

_So much has happened. And yet, it is only the beginning._

* * *

**_A/N: Sorry I have been forgetful and busy, but here's a chapter. My laptop is still at repair, and I've been busy between learning to play the flute, learning French and Latin, dealing with boarding school and generally gwtting the long, boring home work done. I have a 10 day holiday starting Friday, so i promise to update then._**

**_Thank you for sticking with my story over this long time._**


	13. Flowers

The day before the reaping is usually uneventful. As normal, we all just sit around the television at midday for pre-reaping excitement and announcements. Nothing really, besides for famous Capitolites telling which district they think will put up a good fight this year,

As always, people expect some good competition from district 1, 2, 4 and 18. Some strange man with azure blue skin and neon orange hair, apparently one of the Capitol's most famous hair stylists, thinks that District 11 could do well, considering that they had a victor last year - Scythe.

I temporarily smile, as Scythe was Rue's youngest sibling. Scythe was 20 when reaped, and promised that she would win for her life-saving sister, Rue. I haven't spoken with her much, but she seems fond of me, after all I'd done for Rue.

*"^"*  
Shortly after 2 o' clock, someone knocks at the door. Prim pauses our race and makes me answer it.

"Hello?" I ask, opening the fine mahogany door.

"Hi, is Prim there?" It's Dillon Cartwright.

"Yes, she is," I reply, "Come in." He steps in, hiding something from me. "What're you hiding?" I ask. He shows me a bunch of flowers. There's no need to ask who they're for. It's obvious.

I don't even need to show him where to go, as she is calling me, asking who it is. But I still walk in first.

"For you, madame." Dillon says, gesturing to the flowers. Prim smiles, accepts the flowers and hugs Dillon

"A proper gentleman." I smirk. Dillon and Prim giggle.

"For good luck, tomorrow." Dillon smiles, before cheekily kissing Prim on the cheek. I smile at the wonder of it all.

*"^"*  
Dillon goes home after dinner, which was very enjoyable. Peeta made yet another divine meal. Prim hugs Dillon before he leaves, and a tear rolls down her cheek.

"Don't worry." Dillon says. "It'll all turn out fine." He kisses her temple, turns to the door and leaves.

*"^"*  
Prim comes to sleep in Peeta and I's room, and we don't dare object. It's going to be a tough night for her. But at least she's ready.

* * *

_**A/N: I wasn't going to upload, but since it's a month until the Premiere of Catching Fire today, I had to celebrate, so I give you this! The next chapter is the reaping, and things really kick off from then. Keep reading my fans! :)**_


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